


A Quiet Knight In

by Karracaz



Series: Smoke and Mirrors [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, PWP, Star Trek: TOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:17:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karracaz/pseuds/Karracaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the seven year mating hiatus, Sarek finds a way of keeping Amanda contented .....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Knight In

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

o0o

A Quiet Knight In - A Tale of Shonhalok

o0o

PRAISE BE GIVEN TO God, who has placed man's greatest pleasure in the natural parts of woman, and has destined the natural parts of man to afford the greatest enjoyment to woman.

 

He has not endowed the parts of woman with any pleasurable or satisfactory feeling until the same have been penetrated by the instrument of the male; and likewise the sexual organs of man know neither rest nor quietness until they have entered those of the female.

 

Hence the mutual operation. There takes place between the two actors wrestling, intertwining, a kind of animated conflict. Owing to the contact of the lower parts of the two bellies, the enjoyment soon comes to pass. The man is at work as with a pestle, while the woman seconds him by lascivious movements; finally comes the ejaculation.

 

The kiss on the mouth, on the two cheeks, upon the neck, as well as the sucking up of flesh lips, are gifts of God, destined to provoke erection at the favorable moment. God also is it who has embellished the chest of the woman with breasts, has furnished her with a double chin, and has given brilliant colors to her cheeks.

 

He has also gifted her with eyes that inspire love, and with eyelashes like polished blades.

 

He has furnished her with a rounded belly and a beautiful navel, and with a majestic crupper; and all these wonders are borne up by the thighs. It is between these latter that God has placed the arena of the combat; when the same is provided with ample flesh, it resembles the head of a lion. It is called the vulva. Oh, how many men's deaths lie at her door? Amongst them how many heroes!

 

Sheikh Nefzaoui  
The Perfumed Garden

o0o

 

I was in the bath when I heard the door release – followed by quick, light footsteps crossing the outer room – just on the stroke of ten – precisely on time. Of course, I knew who it was, for I had sent him the lock code.

Softly, in answer to his greeting, more than a little nervous, I called out, "I'm in here."

A moment later, the door softly whooshed open and he entered. The room already miniscule shrank further, challenged by his imposing height and daunting presence.

From where I lay beneath the water, I shyly gazed up at him for an instant meeting the gaze of his direct hazel eyes. His slanting brows, along with his dark hair, had recently been trimmed. Brushed forward over his brow and temples, the short bangs framed the face of Mephistopheles - my Dark Knight - blessed with a mysterious air and a perilous glory. Instead of his usual attire, that evening he wore a well-cut, casual, suit, a soft russet shade, beneath which, I glimpsed a becoming mandarin-collared shirt, dyed the same color as the sands on his home world.

He gazed down at me, one aristocratic eyebrow on the rise, and my heart leapt. The bath, full to the brim with a thick layer of soap bubbles concealed my nakedness, yet the flame buried in his eyes echoed the heat of the water. I trembled beneath the froth, for that look was more intimate than any kiss.

"So, we meet again," he murmured, his soft drawl, mellifluous, and deceptively calm. "But do not hide. I wish to look upon thee. Show thyself."

Held in thrall by his mesmerizing gaze, obedient to his will, I reached for the handles on each side of the bath and pulled myself upright. Our eyes were now level as I turned to face him, my breasts discreetly obscured by a coating of soap bubbles that also draped my belly and thighs. I peeped at him from beneath my eyelashes, to see the secret-smile he reserved only for me curve in approval.

"Do not be shy, t'veh." And he leaned forward, his eyes appraising as, with the tips of his fingers, he delicately swept away the concealing foam.

Warmth surged through me, staining my chest and cheeks with crimson as he reached out and cupped a breast in each hand, his thumbs gently brushing the nipples. The sensitive buds obeyed his silent but insistent command. They rose, standing proud of the surrounding darker aureoles, dusky pink, abruptly hard as pebbles.

"Look at me," he quietly directed and unable to glance aside I stared into the fathomless depths of his eyes while his long fingers slowly moved downward, skimming each side of my wet body, over my hips to my thighs. Unable to prevent it, I moaned softly as he explored my abdomen, his intimate touch tingling across my skin in a fiery caress. He ringed my belly button with a questing fingertip and my stomach lurched.

He saw my uncertain swallow and his eyes darkened further. "Everywhere I have touched with my fingers, my lips and tongue and teeth will follow. This I guarantee."

It was a promise I knew he had every intention of keeping as he continued his devastatingly teasing massage. Breathless with anticipation, blood throbbing hotly through my veins, my knees trembled as he pulled lightly at the tight, moist curls that clustered at the apex of my quivering thighs. With pounding heart, the pulses beating erratically in my temples and throat as well as the secret place between my legs, I awaited the further expected assault.

It did not happen. Instead, he abruptly stepped nearer to the bath, leaned forward, and with tantalizing possessiveness took my right nipple between his lips. While his hands slid gently down the length of my back, assertively exploring the shallow cleft at the bottom of my spine, his tongue tip lathed my swollen bud. Instinctively I arched my backbone, clutching at his shoulders as my knees threatened to give way. Electricity arced through me and only his hands on my buttocks stopped me from falling. A moan of ecstasy escaped my control as my sexuality awakened beneath his embrace.

At my gasp of sweet agony, he straightened, hands spread across my bottom, and his mouth reached for my lips. I felt the shock of my own eager response as I gave myself up to the passion of his kiss. Lips hard and searching, ravished me for what seemed an eternity, sending fresh delight spiraling through my flesh. His mouth scorched a burning trail along my jaw, his breath hot and moist against my throat, his eyelashes fluttering the length of my cheek. Reveling in pleasure, I did not resist as he drew me closer against him, a tremor of wanting shivering through me from neck to knees.

"I'll make you wet, " I murmured diffidently against his ear, unashamedly clinging to him. With long fingers still pressed against the yielding flesh of my rump, a dark brow arched mischievously. He nipped my ear lobe and a bolt of scorching desire flared through my abdomen.

"I look forward to it." I shivered again at the assurance in his voice and he drew away a little so that he could look into my eyes.

"Are thee cold, my k'diwa? Shall we continue this in thy room?" Without waiting for an answer, he reached for the fluffy white toweling-sheet warming on the heated rail, wrapped it about me, and lifted me from the bath. Gathering me like a child into his arms he strode confidently into the adjoining room.

 

As in all typical quarters, the outer room was compact. A plain rectangle, it was undistinguished except for the few personal items I had collected over the years. In the daytime, its sparseness was quite evident but now the walls glowed with the softness of pale gold lamplight.

Still holding me in his arms, he looked quickly around at the inbuilt pale wood cupboards and vanity desk before placing me on the wide, wall-length cabin bed – a three-foot high platform with storage drawers underneath. For a moment, he concentrated on getting me warm and dry; briskly rubbing the absorbent terry cotton over my skin watching my reaction with knowing eyes as the towel lightly chafed my nipples, that same secret smile tugging at his lips when I took a quick, excited breath. Hardened by the friction and his interest, the tips of my breasts stood at attention, two tightly furled flower buds waiting to be picked. Putting a pillow behind my shoulders, he urged me gently back against the wall and elbowed my knees apart before expertly patting between my thighs, his eyes again on my face. I clutched at the comforter, gathering it between my fingers, eyes half closed, moaning softly as my clitoris abruptly throbbed.

Correctly interpreting my frantic look, he murmured. "Undo my shirt, Beloved One," and shivered as I fumbled with the fastenings. Quickly, he shouldered out of his jacket and shirt as I reached with unsteady fingers for the closures on his trousers, wanting to see him, wanting to feel his skin against my own. It came as no surprise that he wore no underwear. He kicked off his boots, pushed down his pants, and rolled me into his arms. His mouth fastened on mine again and I parted my lips allowing him to plunder my tongue, take it captive, and suckle it into blissful submission.

He shifted onto his side until his abdomen was snug against by spine, arms beneath my breasts, his hot palms teasing my raised nipples. The swell of his penis rubbed the furrow between by bottom-cheeks, nudging at my opening, and my crotch grew wet. He nipped my neck, pushed me fully onto my stomach, while his hot palm soothed a path over the rounded swell of my hip and onward to the shallow crease that cleft my buttocks. Abruptly, to the exclusion of everything else, my concentration focused on the fingers that lightly roamed between the globes of my cheeks. I clenched against him instinctively, and heard his impatient sigh. A moment later, he reined a flurry of butterfly kisses down my backbone and my nervous fear calmed.

But not for long.

I felt him nuzzle the dimples in the small of my back, pressing his lips to each one. Yet, when his tongue slithered moistly over my skin, I squirmed once more in breathless trepidation. I tried to turn but his arm suddenly became a band of steel holding me down as he leaned over me.

"Would thee escape me, sweetness," he murmured against my flank in a husky whisper. "Or have thee dreamed of me exploring thee in just this way?"

When his finger pressed against the entrance to my anus I gasped, liquid sensations swirling through my abdomen. As with my belly button in the bath earlier, he twirled a fingertip around the tightly pinched sphincter, his hot breath quickening the skin there. Clutching at the comforter, a tremor heating my groin and thighs, I gnawed at the clenched fist trapped beneath me until, completely hypnotized by his touch, I yielded to the burning sweetness that gradually started to build deep inside my pelvis. But a moment later, paying no heed to my whimpering appeal, the probing fingers playfully moved on, the sounds of his tender amusement echoing faintly through the pounding blood in my ears.

A hand on my hip turned me over onto my back and without being fully aware, I slid my palms up his chest, lightly grazing his nipples before twining my arms around his neck. He pressed against me full-length, his skin wonderfully smooth, almost hairless apart from a fuzzy softness on his chest. Even his pubis was bare. His hands clasped my bottom pulling me against his erection and I felt the rousing heat of his flesh burn into me.

I ground my crotch against him as he stroked me with his shaft, juices glistening wetly, wanting him inside of me one way or another – but he had other ideas.

"Not yet, t'veh. There is plenty of time before we get to that."

Again, he slipped off the bed, leaned me back against the pillow, and put another under my hips, raising me slightly. Spreading my knees, his bright gaze drank me in.

"Thee is wanton," he growled, “Mine own jezebel." I inhaled sharply as he gripped my ankles, thrusting my legs back against my breasts so that I was fully open and accessible. Then, with his large hands holding my thighs even wider apart, he bent his head to nuzzle lovingly at my nether lips.

 

Tufts of his hair gently tortured the softness of my inner thighs and belly as his mouth performed its magic rites. As he laid a pattern of yielding kisses down the crease of my groin, I heard myself cry out, a muffled, inarticulate sob. My hips lifted of their own accord and I writhed helplessly in his determined grasp. Never before had I experienced such vibrant sensations. Again, I cried out, clutching at his hair with both hands.

Growling low and exultantly at my surrender, he eagerly allowed me to guide his mouth to the sweetest spot. The secretions of my body flowed like wild honey as he tongued me, lapping and stroking, first with the tip then with the flat, soft then hard, fierce and delicate, smooth and rough, licking a masterly path between my inner and outer lips, dancing on the hood of my clitoris, until the tap-tap of his wayward tongue drove me to a wild concupiscence.

When I thought I could bear no more, when the fires raged, and passion pounded through my blood, heart, and head, he pulled away and for a time rained kisses on the mound of my pubis or nibbled playfully at the rounded globes of my bottom, or gently sucked at my outer lips.

"Sweet t'veh", he murmured in soft praise, until my heartbeat steadied and I could breathe again, "little chkariya, my own le-matya-girl.”

Then he picked up where he left off until my senses reeled once more and I stifled the rapturous scream that worked in my throat. He kept me on the edge of the precipice for more than an hour taking me to the brink each time, mercilessly restraining that last fateful leap into the abyss, until the tears flowed down my face and I begged him for release.

But his heady torture had just begun.

He took the pillow from beneath my head and hips before settling beside me on the bed. Encircling me in his strong arms, his hand on my back crushed me to him and molded my curves to his muscular body. My head fit perfectly in the hollow between his neck and shoulder and for a moment, I buried my hot, tear-streaked face there desperately aware of the intoxicating cinnamon scent of his bare, clean skin intermingled with the musky odor of my own arousal. But he would not allow me to hide there for long. He licked the salty tears from my face before reclaiming my lips, his mouth covering mine; burning with a fiery ardor as his tongue stoked my desire.

Almost delirious with excitement, I hardly noticed when he turned on his back and rolled me on top of him. Even if I had wanted to, I could not twist loose. The strength of his arms dragged me along his body until I straddled his chest. Those bewitching hazel eyes held me like a butterfly on a pin. Mesmerized I stared down at him.

 

Long lips curled in a bare suggestion of a smile as he murmured, "Turn around, Beloved. Face the other way."

Without question, I followed his instructions, twisting around so that my back was to him. His hands on my hips lifted me easily and repositioned me even higher on his chest. Hot breath fanned between my legs and I gasped as fresh sensations burst through my nether lips. The hot blood rose in my cheeks as I realized where his nose rested but soon forgot my shame as his devilish tongue invaded my last defense. He worked me as before until I wailed. The sweat started from my pores as I arched above him, spine bent and my head thrown back. Instinctively, I bore down, grunting, and in that moment, he thrust his tongue up into me.

The sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before. Unable to prevent myself I rocked and arched, the warmth expanding from the centre of my being, little thrills shaking and trembling through my womb, building faster and faster as his tongue plunged in and out – until the rising tension exploded in a burst of flaming incandescence.  
\---

The convulsions took me over, juddered through my awakened flesh, and then shrank abruptly as all my awareness focused on the conflagration blazing along my nerves.

Strangely muted, far off, I heard my voice cry out his name. Then I was lying in his arms again, head pillowed on his strong chest, the beat of his heart beneath my ear. For a time he allowed me to collect my breath, snuggled against him our legs intertwined. Lazy fingers trailed a path up and down my back before he took my hand, guiding it to the apex of his thighs, encouraging me to explore him in the same way he had explored me. Accepting the unspoken invitation, I took his hot, turgid flesh between my fingers and bent my mouth to him. Absorbing his sweetness, my lips tingled.

"Oh, yes, t'veh," I heard him whisper. "That is the way."

His hand on my crown held me close as I pleasured him. With the tip of my tongue, I learned his contours, each ridge, and line, the responsive underbelly, the smooth head with the single, salty tear weeping from the tiny slit. Hips climbing, gently nudging the back of my throat, his soft cries urged me on. His hands tangled in my hair, directed the movements of my mouth as I rose and fell upon his penis in rhythm with his gasps and moans.

He became a Demon, my Quiet Knight, holding on to that which should be mine, withholding my victory. He fought against his body's command to the very last. I swallowed him whole, worked him afresh. My tongue cavorted along his length, capered and flounced, pirouetted, and sashayed, until my jaws ached. Then, at last, I felt his shaft swell and stiffen. He throbbed against the roof of my mouth, bucked, then let go. I tasted cinnamon, rich and flavorful as his seed gushed over my tongue.

 

With a satisfied sigh, I released him and lay back, exhausted. But while the taste of him even yet remained fresh on my lips, he reached for me again.

One hand shifted me up his hard body in one smooth slide while the other arranged my leg over his lean hip. His penis had hardly softened but wet as I was, he entered me easily, a slow, gliding pressure, a key slipping into a well-oiled lock. He curled his long fingers over my buttocks, clasped me to him, and rolled me beneath him on the bed. Inside, I felt his penis stretch and push deeper.

"A'tha," he murmured huskily, and nipped sharply at my ear lobe with his teeth. Pain and pleasure merged, different sides of the same coin. "K'diwa, sweet t'veh, my Beloved One. Now thee will learn the meaning of passion."

His weight pinned me to the mattress. Dark eyes glowed with a strange predatory flame. The heat of him came from within and without. He pushed gently – and slid further in – until our pubis met. A strange, tingling delight spread along my nerves as he started to rock slowly, dreamily, back and forth in sensuous massage. His penis throbbed and pleasure, building minute-by-minute, radiated outward. He stroked my hair, kissed my brow and cheek with his fingertips, ran the pad of his thumb across my lips in loving attention. Finally, he bent his head suckling my nipples in turn until I gasped and arched my back. With my heels locked together in the small of his back, an unstoppable ache gathered deep within me.

"I'm going to come," I moaned. "I can't stop it…"

He raised his head. "Look at me," he said.

It was a command I had no wish to flout. Obediently I gazed up into his eyes. My face glowed; the skin of my breasts and thighs prickled with currents of desire. The fire spread to my sheath clasped about his penis. He shivered.

 

Poised above me, his body quivered. He pulled out in slow deliberation. The muscles of my vagina tightened about him as he re-entered. Again, he withdrew. I sighed through pursed lips, my body taut beneath him, toes curled against the bed, fingers digging into the duvet.

By some marvel of bio-control, he pressed inward once more in calculated leisure… a slow dance… sexy salsa… smoochy-twosome… last waltz…

Far off a clock chimed twelve as I came with his final push, my contractions potently deep, the pleasure so exquisite I seemed to shatter into a million glowing stars. He followed me, hurtled beyond the point of no return; our bodies vibrating as we soared to an awesome, shuddering climax together--

o0o

 

Sarek removed his fingertips carefully from the katra points of Amanda's face. She lay on her back, an arm thrown up above her head, lost in blissful slumber. As he continued to watch, he heard her sigh in contentment, a smile of satisfaction curving her lips.

His own lips echoed her look for a moment as he murmured softly, "Sleep well, my Beloved t'veh, sweet dreams…"

Though he had never admitted it openly, either to himself or to her, he knew he loved her with a passion that only his ancestors had truly known. But Vulcan biology being what it was, he could only show her that ardor every seven years – a poor return for all the devotion she lavished upon him.

His voice muted, he commanded the lights down except for a spotlight directly above his side of the dais and reached for the padd that lay on the retracting shelf nearby. Leaning back against his pillows, he translated the alien script that ran across the screen, the words spoken under his breath, resonating on his tongue: 'Er Roud el Aater p'nozeka el Khater', it began. The language was ancient, though still spoken on Earth. He had learned Arabic specifically to read the text in its original form. The task had truly been a labor of love, a gift for his Human wife, though she knew only the result of his work.

That thought lifted the corners of his hard mouth in the way only Amanda would recognize. He had read that Humans believed the only truly erotic organ was the brain. Now he knew the truth in the saying. What his body could not provide his imagination made up for. He pleased his wife and his wife pleased him.

And when he ran out of inspiration from the pages of The Perfumed Garden, there was always The Kama Sutra! The quiet night in he had suggested to Amanda had certainly proved a success. Mentally he made a note to schedule another for the following week.

The End.


End file.
